


Minfilia Gets Kidnapped, WoL Kills Lots Of People To Rescue Her

by adexia



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 17:42:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5752369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adexia/pseuds/adexia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I can't really think of a short witty title? but I just have a lot of feelings about Minfilia/WoL, and I wanted to write some Pure Unbridled Fury. There's non-graphic mentions of of impalement and death so be careful.</p><p>Here's what S'leine looks like, just with lower level gear: http://56.media.tumblr.com/eb25d6d14f91ad6f0e5ff6222889c9bd/tumblr_o05aovBHo51qkas3co2_1280.png</p>
            </blockquote>





	Minfilia Gets Kidnapped, WoL Kills Lots Of People To Rescue Her

On Minfilia’s request, the Warrior of Light was to escort the Antecedent to Bentbranch Meadows. It was innocuous enough, and S’leine knew the area well enough, that she had no objections concerning Minfilia’s safety. On the back of the blue-feathered chocobo Marquise, hyur and miqo’te set off from the Waking Sands early one morning, and arrived in the Meadows that same evening. After meeting and greeting the locals, the pair retired to a rented room to relax before dinner.

“I’ve heard there used to be a haunted house in this area of the Shroud,” Minfilia began, as she and S’leine unpacked their things for their brief stay. “Would you know anything of it, S’leine?”

The newly-minted dragoon nodded. “Aye, I’ve actually been inside it,” she answered. “Joyous Sparrow--you know, that roegadyn pugilist?--she and a couple other adventurers helped me make it un-haunted again.”

Minfilia smiled; it was difficult to forget the maid easily twice as tall and wide as her staunch ally. “So, it’s simply an ordinary house now, I gather?”

S’leine paused before answering to wipe off her warpaint with a damp cloth (it hadn’t been necessary, but she felt stronger with it on). “There may be poachers or somesuch who hide out in it, since the original masters of the manor don’t exactly wish to return,” she said. “But aye, it is bare of any ashkin or voidsent.”

Minfilia hmm’ed thoughtfully, offering a particularly innocent look as S’leine turned back around to face her. “I think it would be interesting to see this house,” she said. “What say you, mistress Rhowa?”

S’leine frowned. “I fear I must object! The place is still quite dangerous on its own, falling apart from many years of disuse and abuse. And that’s without mentioning the poachers and brigands who stalk the Shroud. Oh, and the stropers…” The dragoon shuddered, recalling the spray of hot seedkin breath that would render even the staunchest of warriors immobile and blinded for a time. “I suggest we stay to the civilized, protected areas for the duration of our stay.”

The antecedent looked quite disappointed, and S’leine’s heart sank. She was only looking out for the hyur’s well-being, but seeing her like this was almost worse than stroper breath. She resisted the urge to change her mind, remembering the lessons she’d learned as a lancer--courage didn’t come from purposefully charging into danger. At the same time, though, Minfilia didn’t often get out of the Waking Sands for pleasure…

But no. “I’m merely saying, it would be much safer for you to stay away from that area,” S’leine said, ears shifting downwards. “I worry about y--what happens to you.” Her cheeks reddened, and she was grateful for the low lighting.

Minfilia thought a moment, then smiled at the dragoon, sending her heart aflutter. “I understand, S’leine,” she said. “I must thank you for looking out for me. There will be other diversions until duty calls us back.” S’leine’s tuft-tipped tail waved upwards as she was glad to hear Minfilia acquiescing. “For now, however, I think we’d best entertain ourselves with a hot meal!”

After a sound rest in the chocobo-down beds, the hyur and miqo’te duo spent that morning among the chocobos and their caretakers. Minfilia stood by, grinning, while S’leine was mobbed by curious younglings intrigued by Marquise’s noble bearing and blue hue. When they started to beg for rides, S’leine was happy to oblige. “Will you be all right if I take them around the corral a few times?” she asked Minfilia, loading up three children onto the chocobo’s saddle.

The antecedent nodded, smiling in amusement; S’leine was better around children than she expected. “I’ll take a short walk while you entertain your guests,” she said, waving for S’leine to go on and have fun. Once the miqo’te had her chocobo on a lead and was gently walking her and the children around the round corral, Minfilia slipped away.

If she couldn’t go to the manor due to the dangers around it, perhaps she could at least look on it from a distance--and take in some scenery while she was at it. She politely asked a Wood Wailer for directions, and set off to the north and then west. The sun shone through the leaves, warming her face as she followed the trail to the base of the great roots that formed the approximation of a staircase to the upper level of the Shroud. She gazed up at the roots in awe, and made a note to ask S’leine about them later on.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, near what she took for a guard tower, Minfilia was winded. She sat on a crate on the upper landing and closed her eyes, taking a moment to catch her breath.

“Don’t come up here often, eh?” a man asked, startling her eyes back open. A hyuran wood wailer stood guard at the opposite corner of the landing, amused smile visible even as the traditional mask hid his eyes.

Minfilia shook her head, smiling in return. “‘Tis my first time, if I am honest,” she said. “I’m visiting with a friend from Gridania, and wanted to see what was up here.”

The wailer nodded in understanding. “Well, to the east, there’s a good view of the woods,” he said, indicating such with his pointer finger. “If you’re here just for the sights, I’d avoid goin’ further west; there’s nought but ziz and death-gazes and Coeurlclaws.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” Minfilia replied with a brief nod. “If I may, I think I will rest a moment and look around before returning to my friend?” With an agreeable nod from the wailer, Minfilia closed her eyes for another brief moment.

When she got back to her feet, Minfilia saw the wailer had spoken true. There was a truly stunning vista beyond the railing. She shaded her eyes and leaned forward a bit, smiling as she spotted S’leine and Marquise still entertaining the children--so far away! She stepped off the wood planks of the landing and onto solid ground, and made to circle around the tower. She spied the ziz in the distance, but thankfully the flightless birds seemed content to clash beaks and display dewlaps with each other than with her. Some flowers caught her eye, and she bent slightly to examine them better. Violet petals with glowing purple tufts growing out of the middle--Tataru would certainly appreciate a gift of these!

Minfilia was debating how best to gather the flowers (such thick stalks!) when she heard a rustling of leaves and the sound of boots hitting earth behind her.

\--

Back at Bentbranch Meadows, S’leine had finally managed to escape the children and return Marquise to her stable for the time being. She did enjoy children, but there was a time when they grew tiresome. Glancing up at the sun, she judged that nearly one and a half bells had passed since she had first been accosted--time flew by when one was having fun, it was said. But where was Minfilia? A quick jog around the settlement did not reveal her, and so S’leine turned to one of the guardsmen for assistance.

“Your friend in the pink top?” the wailer asked, to ascertain who S’leine was referring to. “Aye, she went t’wards Dunstan’s Spire ‘round a bell back. Said she wanted to get a look at Haukke Manor.”

“Get a look at--” S’leine practically spit, she was so alarmed. “Thank you,” she hastily told the guard, rushing back to her and Minfilia’s lodgings. She emerged with her chestplate strapped on and lance in hand. She returned to Marquise’s stable and hopped onto the chocobo’s back without the saddle, tail twitching anxiously. “Don’t you dare spill me,” she told the mare, before clicking her tongue and high-tailing it up the winding roots to the upper-level guard tower.

As she crested the final staircase, she was hailed by the wood wailer Theodore. “S’leine Rhowa, good to see you!” he said. “Didn’t think I’d see you ‘round these parts again--”

“Nevermind me,” she cut him off, sliding off Marquise’s back and looking up at him intently. “Have you seen a hyuran woman with blonde hair, wearing a pink top and violet skirt?”

Taken aback, Theodore thought a moment, then nodded. “Aye, ‘round one bell ago, she got up here and took a rest before taking a look ‘round the spire. I assumed she’d got back down to Bentbranch and I just missed her.”

S’leine’s ears flattened, and she took off to search for clues without a second word to the wailer. At the back end of the spire, her sharp eyes spied something glinting in the grass. She crouched to examine it, and picked up Minfilia’s belt ornament, the clasp broken as if it had been yanked in a struggle. She clutched the triangular ornament in her hand, tail switching back and forth in the grass. She sniffed the air, picking out the stink of animal skins and blood. Her pupils narrowed to slits. Poachers. And poachers would be…

\--

Inside Haukke Manor, Minfilia was coming back to her senses. After the blow to her head, all she recalled was darkness. She sat up, wincing at the pain in the back of her skull, and tried to take in her surroundings. An old parlor, by the looks of the peeling wallpaper. The smell of mold and rot permeated the air. “Perhaps I’m getting a look at the haunted house after all,” she murmured to herself, looking to the doorway. The doors were missing, but a makeshift barricade composed of rusty metals and sharp wooden planks barred the way instead. Cautiously getting to her feet, the antecedent made her way over to the barricade and tried to listen out.

“...and those clothes!” she heard an excited voice say. “Gods bless, the clothes alone could net us a fortune. I ain’t ever seen such fancy rags in my life.”

“If yer wanna keep goin’ on about her I’m like to shut ye up,” a gruff female voice replied. “King said we’re just to ransom the bitch.”

Minfilia sighed with relief. Thank the Twelve for small favors...

“Ransom ‘er to who?” Excited Voice whined. “We dunno nothin’ about ‘er! ‘Sides, what if you scrambled ‘er head when you hit ‘er? Could be she don’t remember us so good later on…” There was a smack and a yelp, and Excited Voice stopped talking.

Minfilia retreated to the rear of the old parlor and fumbled for her linkpearl. No good--it must have fallen out on the way here. She just had to hope S’leine knew where to find her…

\--

Haukke Manor was as dismal as the dragoon remembered, with stropers squelching about in the murky water bordering the boardwalk leading up to the building proper and crumbling cobblestones littering the courtyard. At least the voidsent hadn’t returned, but there was another problem to deal with in their stead.

S’leine leapt powerfully off of Marquise’s back as she cleared the main gate, whipping out her lance and diving point-first onto a very surprised elezen poacher. They went down with hardly a noise of surprise, and S’leine immediately yanked the bloodied tip out and jumped back to continue her attack. The poachers were surprised out of their lazing and took up arms, prepared to defend their hold. The dragoon didn’t even give them the chance, rushing each individual in turn and ending their lives on the point of her lance.

Fury burned hotly within her; she hadn’t known such anger before, and later she would be frightened by what it did to her. But for now, only one thing mattered: Minfilia.

The doors were unlocked when she reached them, and she kicked the left-side one inwards, flooding the dingy entrance hall with midday sunlight. There she stood, the one and only Warrior of Light, a darkened silhouette illuminated from behind. A hyur with a bruised cheek and a roegadyn woman waited there, both ready to fight, likely alerted from the commotion outside. The hyur drew their knives and the roegadyn readied an axe. “You’d best sod off!” the hyur snarled. “Anyone messes with the Coeurlclaws--”

He didn’t get a chance to finish as S’leine hurled her lance into his chest. He fell back with a cry, and then was silent. The dragoon leapt to retrieve her weapon, bounding off the handle of the roegadyn’s axe as she made to swing.

Hearing the commotion, Minfilia hurried to the makeshift barricade, struggling to look out through the gaps without hurting herself on the jagged edges. She saw a shadowy miqo’te, lit from behind and impossible to see clearly, trade blows with a roegadyn marauder nearly twice her size. The miqo’te was utterly silent, ignoring the hurled insults and threats from her opponent. Minfilia heard footsteps running down the hall, and several shapes passed by in front of her prison; more of the group that held her captive. “Look out! More are coming!” she called out.

Minfilia’s voice momentarily broke through the ringing fog of S’leine’s battle-haze. She snapped her head around, ears perked as she registered what had been said. A slice of pain down her arm returned her to the fog, and she turned back to her enemy.

The remaining poachers in the manor surrounded the two combatants, both afraid to get too close to the swinging broadaxe and thrusting lance. “What in the hells are ye all waiting for, permission from yer ma’s?” the marauder roared, bearing down on the lance’s haft with her axe’s blade. “Do somethin’!”

A miqo’te archer stepped back from the group and took aim at S’leine’s legs, noticing with their sharp eyes what the others could not--the intruder’s lower body was unprotected. The arrow struck home in the dragoon’s thigh, and she howled her pain, buckling under the pressure of the marauder’s blade.

The trapped antecedent’s blood ran cold as she recognized S’leine’s voice. Her dear friend and ally was in danger, now more than before! “S’leine, I’m coming!” she shouted, casting about frantically for something to break the barricade with. Her daggers had been taken, but a fairly intact chair would do just fine. She picked up a dining-chair that had been discared on the floor and smashed it into the barricade with all her might--which wasn’t much, but certainly did the job, sending debris scattering out into the hall and entryway.

S’leine broke out of her haze once more upon hearing Minfilia’s shout. This was no time to falter, she reminded herself. She had to protect what was most precious to her. With the grace her small body afforded her, she yanked her lance and herself out from under the roegadyn’s axe, hearing it smash into the floorboards with a violent crunch. She swept her lance around and behind her, knocking the legs out from the remaining poachers. Her leg pained her terribly from the arrow within it, but she did her best to focus her attention elsewhere.

The roegadyn was trying to get her axe out of the floor. S’leine didn’t let her. With a vicious miqo’te yowl, she launched herself up with her good leg and drove the lance home in her chest. There was a startled gurgle, then silence.

S’leine rounded on the poachers trying to get back to their feet, eyes reflecting the outside sunlight in an eerie, almost evil glower. “Anyone else?” she snarled, the scent of fresh blood driving her back into the haze. The poachers fled.

Once the way was clear, Minfilia rushed forward towards S’leine, grasping her hand. The dragoon flinched and almost lashed out from the touch, but forced herself to relax. She pulled her bloodied lance from the marauder’s body and silently limped her way out of the manor, Minfilia close by her side.

“You’re hurt,” Minfilia said once they were out in the fresh air again, and they could see each other clearly in the sunlight. She looked into S’leine’s piercing teal eyes, with their pupils thinned into slits, and began to cry.

This was what finally managed to snap S’leine fully out of the fog of battle. The ringing in her ears ceased, replaced by the quiet of the Black Shroud, and her own tears began to fall. “Minfilia, I’m so sorry,” she said, falling to one knee and looking down at the ground--both out of shame, and because she was no longer able to stand with both legs. “I couldn’t protect you, you could’ve been hurt--” She forced herself to look back up at Minfilia, and spotted cuts and scratches on her arms and face, the result of parts of the makeshift barricade hitting her as she smashed it. “You were hurt!”

Minfilia shook her head, kneeling before S’leine and taking her face in her hands. “I’m fine, S’leine,” she said, wiping away the miqo’te’s tears with her thumbs. S’leine was struck dumb by the surprisingly intimate gesture, and had to blink back further tears. “As for you, you were wonderful. I’ve never before seen such ferocity from you in combat.”

S’leine began to tremble slightly, recalling the rage-fueled haze that she’d only just gotten back out of. “I just had to protect you, Minfilia. I had to make sure you were safe.” She fell forward slightly, forehead coming to rest in the crook of the hyur’s neck. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Minfilia cradled her for a moment, then wiped her own tears away and began to stand. “We must get back to Bentbranch,” she said. “You’re terribly wounded, and I daresay we both need a rest…”

S’leine nodded numbly, trying to stand herself. “No you don’t,” Minfilia said, gently scolding. “Wait here, and I will fetch Marquise.”

It took a few tries, but Minfilia was able to convince the chocobo to lower herself so that her wounded mistress could climb on without exerting too much effort. Minfilia took the fore of the bird’s back, and S’leine wrapped her arms around her waist to avoid falling off. They reached Dunstan’s Spire shortly at a gentle trot, and the wood wailers helped them to get back to the stables safely. The local doctor applied medicine and bandages to them both, instructed S’leine to stay off her leg until a proper cleric could be summoned, and sent them both back to their room for rest.

S’leine was more than happy to oblige, unusually exhausted from the day’s events. She let her chestplate drop to the floor and half-hopped into her bed, rolling over with her good leg curled up to her chest. After a moment, she felt Minfilia sit down on the edge of the bed next to her.

“S’leine…” the antecedent began, then hesitated. “Is it all right if I… if I call you Leine?” S’leine flushed; that was usually reserved for family members or intimates, to drop the clan prefix. She nodded, hoping Minfilia didn’t see how red her cheeks were getting.

Minfilia smiled. “Thank you for being there for me, Leine,” she said. She leaned over and kissed the Warrior of Light on the cheek.


End file.
